


The Heaven You Deserve

by misslynn_99



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Winchester Realizes Feelings For Castiel, Fix-It, Heaven, I changed the finale to suit my wants because I didn't like it, I ignore Sam's whole family because it lasted all of 5 minutes of screen time, Jack has resurrected anyone that I want for the good of the story, Like how the fuck did they go to heaven?, M/M, Mentions of canon-typical violence, Might be a bit ooc, Not Canon Compliant, Slow Burn, also John/Mary Winchester salt, but Dean gets to marinate in his feelings, good luck trying to stop me, the final could have done better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:08:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27651124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslynn_99/pseuds/misslynn_99
Summary: Dean arrives in heaven, waiting for Sam to finish his life, only to meet his brother far too soon. The boys try to settle down, and enjoy their eternity in heaven, but some newly resurrected angels throw a wrench in their plans...Or the one where Dean realizes he's been in love with Castiel too.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

Author's note: 

To preface this work, I just want everyone to know that I am mostly posting this so early in order to claim the title for myself. Castiel deserves better. Hell, most of the characters in SPN deserve better. But you know what? We're fixing that, right here. Warnings for anyone who didn't read the tags, This is waaaayyy noncompliant with the finale, or many other parts of the show, but I just need to write what I wanted to continue. The main focus of this story is going to be Dean/Cas, but I plan on sprinkling in some Gabriel/Sam as well. This is going to diverge in that Sam dies and goes to heaven before he even starts his family. It just didn't feel right to me than his life ended basically the same way it would have if Dean had never shown back up in his life- with a white picket fence, family, and never worrying about hunting again. I'll see you all when I get the chance to work on this, presumably after my finals are over in Mid-December. Stay safe and healthy until then :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the official chapter one- I've made my official plot outline, so hopefully I can work through a few more chapters before the next semester starts. After that, this story will probs be a bit slow to update. Regardless, stay safe and sane everyone!

“... I think I’ll take a drive.” He smiled, tossing Bobby a side glance as he got into the Impala, lovingly starting her engine and cruising towards the forest. The sight of the Harvelle’s tavern with Bobby outside had been reassuring; his life didn’t have many memories worth replaying for eternity. Not that he would have chosen any of the alternatives that he had unfortunately already visited, but the prospects of watching the same bittersweet moments over and over again for the rest of heaven’s existence hadn’t been comforting either.

The winding path through the forest was perfectly uninhabited. From the road, Dean couldn’t even see the house Bobby said belonged to his parents. “Proof that you don’t have to be a good person to make it in to heaven.” He mumbled to himself. Sure, his parents had tried their best, given their circumstances, but humans are flawed and make mistakes. Some of which could _never_ be forgiven. John’s cold heart and icy rage haunted his childhood; from the time that Mary died, Dean wasn’t a child- he was a hunter’s son, bearing its full responsibilities. Mary had been just as guilty, jumpstarting the family’s self-destructive and self-sacrificing streak from the moment her deal with Azazel had been sealed; dooming their lives to tragedy from the start.

Sam had been right to run, to try and find some glimmer of hope outside the toxic shadow that was their father’s desperate grief and desire for vengeance. Dean had to wonder what Sam’s life would have been if he had never turned back up, never broke into his home to tell him “ _Dad’s on a hunting trip and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”_ Sam would probably have married Jess, or at least a woman like her, and led a life with a white-picket fence, two kids and a dog.

“At least he has a dog now.” A pang of guilt sliced through his chest. As cute as the mutt had been, Miracle couldn’t hope to replace the dozens of people gone from their lives, even after the effects of Chuck’s snap had been reversed. With even more guilt, he remembered that he was another one of those people, forever lost to Sam. It had been the right decision, but he regretted that he had left Sam to live the rest of his life without him.

For a place that should be as full as heaven, the forest was strangely quiet, Dean noted. Other than the occasional deer wandering through the woods, he was entirely alone with his thoughts. Dean wasn’t sure how far he had driven; Baby’s fuel gage never dipped below full, and the clock on the dash was frozen at 3:00 p.m., despite his half-hearted attempts to change it. Time was meaningless here, he realized. It didn’t matter if he worked up the courage to see visit his parents tomorrow or next century. Dean wondered briefly how long it would seem like he had been gone to everyone who knew he was here. He couldn’t hide in the Impala forever.

Around the corner, he approached a bridge and for the first time, noticed another human figure in the distance. “It can’t be.” He muttered.

Getting out of Impala and looking out over the shallow, sandy river, he waited. It looked just like the Platte River, or maybe one of a dozen other little streams they crossed while traveling across the Midwest, killing monstering monsters. 

“Hey Sammy.”

“Dean.”

He turned and gave his brother a hug, hands twisted in the tan jacket’s fabric. “How long as it been?” Dean asked quietly. He couldn’t fathom seeing Sam again after what felt like a few fleeting hours, although they must have spanned decades.

“Twenty-seven hours since your funeral.” Sam croaked. “I got hit by a drunk driver on my way with Miracle to the dog park. The wreck pushed us onto some train tracks, where we got hit a second time. I think it dragged the Impala a few hundred feet, but I’m pretty sure the first hit knocked me out.” Sam’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his voice hitched with angry tears and shoulders shaking with rage. 

“I’m sorry Dean. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t make it even a lousy fucking week before kicking the bucket, that I couldn’t even protect the fucking car. So much for anything and everything we did. There’s nothing and hardly anyone to remember us, or all that we did for the world. There’s hardly a goddamn trace that we existed, except for some abandoned safehouses that no one will ever be able to get into. I didn’t even live long enough to make anyone’s sacrifices worth it. Cas-“ Sam’s voice caught in his throat.

“Hey, hey,” Dean tried to calm his brother. “You didn’t do nothing wrong, ya hear me?”

“I don’t even know where Miracle is.” Sam whispered.

“It doesn’t matter. We’ve got the rest of time to spend here. They’re all here Sam. Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Ash, John and Mary. No one’s trapped in their own memories. I don’t know how to get back to them, or how long I’ve been driving through these woods but we’ll figure it out. C’mon Sammy, get in the car and we’ll find our way back.”

Sam’s presence in the passenger seat was familiar and comfortable, smoothing out the awkwardness that had lingered while he wandered, alone. The familiar winding road disappeared under the Impala’s tires, and Dean hoped that he would eventually find his way back by following the same road he took to the bridge. The passage of time and distance in this new heaven still didn’t make sense to him; everything felt perfectly frozen in time yet he knew that time passed both on Earth and here.

The Harvelle’s Roadhouse came into view quickly, with Bobby, Jo, Ash, and Ellen drinking on the front porch. The smile that had lit up their faces from seeing the Impala quickly fell when they caught sight of Sam in the passenger seat. With remorse, he realized that he and Sam were both taken before their time, even after surviving the worst that the world had to offer.

“Didn’t expect to see you here so soon,” Ellen commented as they got out of the car. “But lord knows you boys deserve to rest after everything you’ve been through.”

“How long did you last?” Jo asks teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. “From what we can figure, Dean-o here made it about a month after the end of the world, and it’s not like we know how time is passing in the real world.”

Thankfully, Sam didn’t tear up, but hung his head. “I made it a little more than a day after Dean’s funeral. A drunk driver hit the Impala and pushed it onto the tracks, where it was hit by a train.”

“That’s rough buddy.” Ash winced. “It sounds like the Roadhouse bartender’s skill are desperately needed. Come in, and we’ll drink to your stupidly mundane deaths.”

To Ash’s credit, he sure could whip up an old-fashioned, not that Dean particularly cared for how his whiskey was dressed up. Most nights in the their various motel rooms he nursed a flask of the liquor without any extras.

“So, what do you mean about time not passing like in the real world?” Sam asked, absentmindedly fidgeting with the cocktail spear in his whiskey sour.

Jo shrugged. “Time doesn’t really mean anything here. We all kind of follow a schedule, more or less, but there isn’t really a day or night, and the seasons haven’t changed since Jack overhauled the place. To be honest, I’m not sure if time actual exists here at all. It’s like this place is frozen.”

“So, how long did it seem like I was gone?” Dean asked.

“If I had to guess, a few hours.” Bobby responded. “We didn’t call ‘er quits and go to bed from when you left. We were just thinking of cooking something for supper, maybe play a few rounds of poker.”

“So, do groceries just like, appear then?” Sam’s eyebrows knit together.

“More or less,” Ellen chuckled. “When I found myself here, I found the pantry full with what I used to stock before we made the Roadhouse a bar only. If I someone mentions an ingredient we’re missing, it usually turns up nearby. I’ve yet to see anything run out or spoil.”

“And you all just, found yourselves here?” Sam still looked as confused as Dean felt. “Like, I get the Roadhouse for Ellen, Jo, and maybe even Ash, but what about you Bobby? And Dean said that Mom and Dad apparently have a house somewhere nearby. Did that all just appear with you in it, or did you have to look for it?”

“Karen and I also have a house nearby.” Bobby volunteered. “But I didn’t have no grand search or relocation. I was reliving my best memories, of my early marriage, and suddenly realized that what was happening wasn’t in any of my memories. Karen and I eventually wondered outside of our house, and found everyone.”

“Same.” Jo agreed. “We were all in our separate heavens, but the next moment we were all here together, for real. We were all pretty confused, but after a while we heard Jack and Castiel speaking, saying that Earth had been saved, there was a new god, and that we were free to do almost anything we wanted.”

“So, what is there to do around here?” Dean raised an eyebrow. “Seems like a whole lotta nothing here.”

"We spend time with each other.” Ellen quipped. “It’s not like we’ve got nothing better to do than sit and twiddle our thumbs. We’ve got cards and pool and darts here. There’s a nearby lake where the boys like to go fishing, and there’s plenty of wildlife if you feel like hunting something. We cook and clean, sleep and have coffee when we get up. It’s got nothing on the hunting life, but I for one don’t mind the relaxed lifestyle.”

“So how do Dean and I fit into all this?” Sam interjected. “From the sounds of it, you all had a place here already and just got to keep living there. Dean found me on a _bridge_ with nothing but his _car._ If it isn’t clear, we sure as hell haven’t had a home in a long, long time. “

“Your mom and dad’s house isn’t too far from here.” Ash answered cautiously. “If you want, you could stay with them, maybe be a family again.”

“No.” Dean was almost surprised by his own sharp, answer. “We are not staying with John and Mary.” Guilt prickled the back of his neck for the bone deep recoil and horror he felt at the mere prospect of spending an eternity living with their parents again. Dean wasn’t even sure when he would be able to stomach seeing them again after living free from them for so long.

“We have plenty of extra rooms here.” Ellen volunteered, a protective and motherly edge seeping into her voice. “No one’s gonna make you do anything you don’t want to. Now, why don’t we get something cooking?”

Dean’s shoulder sagged with relief. “What’s for dinner then?”

“Burgers!” Jo’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Now since you’re free from your impending demise of heart disease, I figure you could indulge a little.” 

..........

Content. Dinner and games with his little found family soothed an ache in his soul that had long since woven itself into the fabric of his existence, formed from the scarred remains from his heart being ripped open with each loss. He’s lost more people more times than anyone has ever deserved to. But sitting around the table, drinking and laughing with good game of poker and better burgers is the closest he’s had to true happiness in years.

Except it isn’t enough. Ellen eventually showed him and Sam to the spare bedrooms where they could rest for the time being. It is then that the emptiness crashes back over him in waves. He can’t find it in himself to forgive his parents, or himself for that matter.

Even now, he supposed he is theoretically safe, he can’t think of John Winchester without thinking of his cold, militaristic parenting. Without thinking of the long weeks spent in locked up motel rooms. Without thinking of the hungry nights, pretending to have already eaten so that Sam would not go without. Without thinking of the terribly dark bruises and his bloody nose the night Sam ran away to Stanford. Without thinking about the eggshells he danced around, careful to avoid inciting John’s rage.

And Mary, who had cursed her sons with this fate to begin with. Not only through her deal with Azazel, but through keeping her husband blissfully, woefully ignorant of the retribution that was sure to show up on their doorstep, to claim his half of the bargain. Who allowed her husband to be blind-sighted after she burned to a crisp on the ceiling of their childhood home, sending John into a downward spiral of grief and revenge. Who savored her ten years, stupidly ignoring the implications of what a demon entering her home would have. Who, in her desperate desire for a normal, white picket fence life, left him to deal with the emotional fallout of the destruction of their family.

Sure, he and Sam had done the world a ton of favors, but each new apocalypse seemed to chase the tails of their fuck ups, of the imperfectly handled, previous disasters. He hoped that this last time had been enough- that Jack and Cas could be spared the burden of having to continue cleaning up his messes.

Cas’s tearful confession still rang in his ears, weeks after he was too stunned to do anything but watch Cas be taken by the empty, too fearful to say anything about his own conflicted feelings, and too cowardly to acknowledge what had transpired, except in his own mind where his words played on repeat, serving only to weigh upon his guilty heart.

His best friend. He had allowed his closest friend to be taken to eternal suffering without so much as a fight. He had failed Castiel, just like he had failed everyone else who had ever put their trust in him. Every person he had seen so far in heaven was here because of him. They had put down their lives and paid the ultimate price to save his sorry ass, yet he couldn’t stop asking for the next sacrifice. In his death, at least there would be no one else to give their life for him. Even if Cas never spoke to him again, he was glad that Jack had saved him after all; it was more than Dean could ever offer him. 


End file.
